


Unconventional

by RubyCaspar



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: And Rosie's there too because I like using her for this kind of thing apparently, But Phryne isn't in this one, Established Phrack, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, People misusing books, This is all about Jane and Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyCaspar/pseuds/RubyCaspar
Summary: A chance encounter with Jack's ex leaves him evaluating his unconventional relationship with Jane Ross.





	Unconventional

**Author's Note:**

> So something similar to this idea has been floating around in my head for a few months, and then last night after I posted the last chapter of my whump fic at like 2am, I had the sudden fully-formed idea for this fic. I planned all the dialogue in my head instead of, you know, sleeping. And now here I am, posting the fic at gone midnight instead of, you know, SLEEPING. 
> 
> WHY, MUSE, WHY??? 
> 
> Anyway, it's an odd one, I hope you like it. I've barely read it back so there's probably loads of errors, but guys I need to sleep.

Rosie considered herself adept in most social situations, but this was turning out to be a new one for her. Her school friend, Harriet, worked part-time at a book shop that specialised in non-fiction, and had invited her to a special sale event she had organised. It was something called a ‘flash sale’ - customers paid a small amount to attend, and in return they received a selection of biscuits, 50% off their purchases, and the run of the shop for an hour. 

 

She had expected a crowd of quiet bookish people, older bibliophiles, the kind of people who spend their days poring over dusty tomes in their cluttered houses. And for the most part, that’s how they appeared. They certainly skewed older, and seemed extremely sure of what books they were there for. Many of them had lists. But as soon as the door closed behind them and the hour officially began, any notion that they were a group of well-behaved, refined book-lovers went out of the window. 

 

It was like watching a whirlwind of carnage. Books were pulled from shelves and shoved unceremoniously onto others, or in some cases dropped to the floor. Customers were shouting to each other, or  _ at  _ each other, and an employee had to step in between two men who almost came to blows over the last copy of a book in the gardening section. 

 

Rosie stood in a corner, mesmerised by the sight. It really was incredible to watch. 

 

There was one customer who stood out from the rest. Firstly, she didn’t have a list, but she seemed to know exactly what she wanted. She was pulling books from shelves with almost military precision. Secondly, instead of carrying the books around with her, she was hiding them underneath a table set against the far wall. It had a tablecloth that reached down to the ground, perfect for hiding the books she was collecting. Thirdly, she seemed inneringly adept at navigating the chaos of the sale, slipping between bickering men with their arms full of teetering piles of books, squeezing past women reaching up for items on the higher shelves. 

 

Last - and by no means least - she couldn’t be more than fifteen years old. In fact, the girl was even wearing a school uniform. 

 

Rosie watched her with growing curiosity as she plundered the shelves. She didn’t seem to know anyone at the sale - Rosie kept expecting one of the other customers to check in with her, but no one ever did, and after a while she noticed that the girl kept looking towards the shop’s door. After about fifteen minutes or so, the girl stopped her expedition and stood by the table, her eyes fixed on the door expectantly. 

 

Rosie shook her head and made her way over to the girl - easier said than done, given that the shop was more akin to a battlefield - but her curiosity had really gotten the better of her. 

 

The girl looked at her warily when she noticed her approach, and Rosie gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. 

 

“Hello,” she said. 

 

The girl smiled back, but it was guarded. “Hello.” 

“I’m Rosie, Rosie Harris.” Rosie held out her hand, and the girl took it after a moment of hesitation. 

 

“Jane Ross, nice to meet you.”

 

“I’m sorry to disturb you - but I couldn’t help noticing your trick with the table from where I was watching,” said Rosie truthfully. She smiled again. “I thought it was rather ingenious.” 

Jane smiled sheepishly. “I saw the tablecloth and… do you work here? Do I need to move them?” 

 

Rosie waved her hand. “No no - I don’t work here. And I’m not buying either, so don’t worry, I won’t steal them,” she said. “I’m here with a friend, just trying to stay out of the way really. Which I noticed you’re very good at.” 

 

Jane grinned. “You have to watch for the gaps.” 

 

Rosie laughed, and Jane’s eyes went back to the door. 

 

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” Rosie noted. 

 

“I am,” she said. “My…” Jane’s voice trailed off, and she frowned, looking extremely puzzled. She turned the puzzled frown on Rosie. “I don’t really know how I would describe him, actually.”

 

“Your beau?” Rosie suggested, assuming that it might be a male friend. 

 

“Oh god no!” Jane exclaimed immediately, shaking her head. “He’s my…” She floundered again for the right words. “Step-father? Except he’s not?” She shrugged helplessly. “He’s in a relationship with my guardian, he practically lives with us and…” She floundered again, before shrugging. “He’s the closest thing I have to a father, I just don’t have a name for it.” 

 

“Oh,” said Rosie. “I see.” She paused, thinking over what Jane had said, and what it told her about the girl - if she lived with a guardian than she was likely an orphan. Her uniform was for one of the most exclusive private schools in the city, so the guardian must be quite wealthy… or her parents had left her money. And there was a man who was involved with her guardian, but clearly not married to her - uncommon, but hardly unheard of. 

 

Rosie realised she was just standing there, letting the silence grow, and spoke quickly. “You’re right, I’m not sure what I would call that,” she said. “It’s a little unconventional.”

 

She worried for a moment that the girl would think her rude, but she just smiled. “My life is unconventional.”

 

Rosie smiled back. “All the best ones are,” she said. “So you’re fond of books?”

“I am, I love to read.”

 

“What are favourite things to read?”

 

“History books,” she said promptly. “But I’m trying to branch out into reading more novels - I’ve been reading Jane Austen the last few weeks.”

 

“I love Austen,” Rosie said. “I’d recommend Gaskell as well.  _ North and South _ is wonderful.”

 

Jane smiled warmly. “I’ll bear it in mind,” she said. 

 

There was a crash from the other side of the shop as an entire shelf-full of books tumbled to the floor. Rosie caught sight of Harriet on the other side of the throng, looking as though she was about to tear her hair out. Or someone else’s. 

 

“I think my friend needs some help,” Rosie said to Jane. “Will you alright waiting on your own?”

Jane nodded. “I will - thank you,” she said. “I -” Her eyes skipped back to the door and her face blossomed into an excited smile. “Actually he’s just walked in,” she said. She turned to Rosie, but she looked ready to take off for the door. “It was nice to meet you.”

 

“You too - enjoy the sale,” Rosie said.

 

“And you, Miss Harris.” With that, Jane did indeed shoot off towards the door. Rosie smiled, following her retreating back - sure enough the door of the shop was open, and a man was having his ticket checked by one of the shop assistants before allowed in. 

 

Rosie’s eyes widened with shock. It was Jack. 

 

_ Jack _ . She stood rooted to the spot, waiting for another man to follow him in, but the door closed behind him and a moment later Jane was at his side, tugging eagerly on his arm. Rosie realised they would be heading straight for where she stood, and hurriedly made her way to the other side of the shop. 

 

Her mind was reeling, but it all made a kind of sense. Jane had to be Phryne Fisher’s ward. Phryne was her guardian - certainly rich enough to send her to such an exclusive school - and Jack was in a relationship with her… she knew that was the case, had heard about it from friends. Which meant that Jack was  _ practically living  _ with Phryne, if Jane was to be believed. 

 

Rosie reached Harriet and bent down to help her pick up the fallen books, but couldn’t help looking over her shoulder towards Jane’s table. She had indeed brought Jack over to it, and he was twitching the tablecloth aside to have a look. He looked very impressed, and said something that made Jane beam. Then he took out his notebook, flicked it open, and the two of them bent their heads over it, deep in conversation. 

 

Rosie turned back to the books in her hands, her heart in her mouth. She knew that the collapse of their marriage was in the past, and quite honestly the pain of it had faded until it was barely noticeable. Still, she did have regrets, and seeing Jack with Jane brought her greatest one sharply to mind. She wondered if Jack ever regretted that they never had children as well, ever regretted not becoming a father. 

 

She put the books back on the shelf with no attention to what order they were in, and glanced over again. They’d moved, and it took a moment to find them - Jane was leading Jack from bookshelf to bookshelf, directing him to certain books to take down, invariably from the top two shelves, the ones she hadn’t been able to reach herself. Jack went wherever she pointed and handed her the books with a smile, looking as though he were enjoying himself immensely. 

 

_ He’s the closest thing I have to a father _ . 

 

Rosie suddenly found herself smiling as well. 

 

***

Jack was double-checking his list in his notebook when a voice he knew well spoke from right beside him. 

 

“Hello Jack.”

 

Jack startled, staring at her in shock. “Rosie! What are you doing here?”

 

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Nice to see you too.”

 

Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry-  it is nice to see you,” he said. “How are you?”

 

“Very well thank you,” Rosie said with a smile. “And you? You look well.”

 

Jack smiled back. “Thank you, I am.” There was a shout from across the shop and two customers got into a row over a book. Jack checked quickly that Jane was nowhere near them - she wasn’t - before turning back to Rosie. “What  _ are _ you doing here?”

 

“I do like books you know,” Rosie said primly. Jack looked pointedly at her empty hands, and she rolled her eyes. “My friend Harriet helped to organise the event.” 

 

Jack nodded, smiling again. “Well, please pass on my compliments.” 

 

Rosie nodded. Jack glanced away again, checking where Jane was now - they had found everything they wanted, but she was checking the shelves for anything that caught her eye, and Jack was guarding their haul under the table. He smiled to himself - she really was a genius. 

 

“I was talking with Jane before you got here,” Rosie said suddenly. 

 

Jack looked at her in surprise, and saw that she had looked away over at Jane as well. “Really?”

 

Rosie turned back to him. “Yes - I didn’t know who she was, but I saw a young girl by herself and didn’t want her waiting alone,” she said.

 

“I got caught at work,” said Jack sheepishly.

 

Rosie nodded. “I didn’t realise Phryne had a ward,” she said. 

 

“Yes, Jane’s been with her for nearly three years now,” Jack told her. “She was briefly a suspect on the second case we ever worked together.” He smiled at the memory, watching Jane as she ducked under another customer’s arm and snagged a slim volume off a shelf. “She’s hardly recognisable now - she’s one of the smartest girls in her year, she always has a book in her hand - she wants to be a university professor.”

 

He glanced back at Rosie and found that she was watching him with an odd smile. He blinked. “What?”

 

Rosie’s smile widened. “You sound like a proud father.”

 

Jack froze. “Oh, er, that’s not…” he floundered, “I wouldn’t say that that’s…” He could feel himself starting to go red, as he thought back over what he’d been saying - he could see that that’s how he would have sounded, but that’s not… of course he was proud of her, but not like a  _ father _ , she wasn’t… he didn’t have the right to think of her that way, and he wouldn’t want her to think that he did think that, or think that he was overstepping. Perhaps he  _ was _ overstepping. 

 

Rosie looked amused at his inner turmoil. “Yes, she didn’t know what to call you either, when I asked who she was waiting for.”

 

Jack shifted uncomfortably. “She didn’t?” Damn. Which meant she probably  _ did  _ think he was overstepping…

 

“She said she didn’t know what to call you, but that you’re the closest thing she has to a father.”

 

Jack’s eyes snapped to Jane, and then back to Rosie. “She really said that?” 

 

Rosie’s smile wasn’t amused anymore, it was fond. “She did.” 

 

Jack smiled slightly, but started to frown again at the implications. Not of Jane thinking of him that way - he didn’t mind… lord knows he didn’t mind, it was just… he’d never before given any thought to the nature of his relationship with Jane, and now it seemed like a terrible oversight. 

 

Rosie nodded. “Your not-daughter is trying to get your attention.”

 

Jack looked round - Jane was indeed waving to him from across the shop, and when she caught his eye she pointed up at the top shelf above her. Jack couldn’t help a smile. “I’d better-”

 

Rosie nodded, and darted forward to kiss him on the cheek. “It was nice to see you, Jack,” she said. “Say hello to Phryne for me.”

 

Jack smiled. “I will.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “It was nice to see you too.”

 

***

Jane pointed out the book she wanted and watched as Jack took it down without any trouble. She hated being so short. She was going to bring a stepladder to the next sale. 

 

“Do you know Miss Harris?” She asked him as he handed her the book. 

 

Jack glanced back at the table, but the woman had disappeared off somewhere. “Rosie is my ex-wife,” he said.

 

“Oh!” Said Jane in surprise. “Oh - I thought her name was Sanderson? Or has she remarried?”

 

“Harris is her mother’s maiden name - she uses it now, to avoid association with her father,” Jack told her. 

 

“Poor lady,” said Jane. “She seemed nice - I was talking to her before you arrived.” 

 

“Yes she is nice,” said Jack shortly. He looked around again, and it seemed to Jane that he was a little agitated. “Have you looked at all the sections you wanted?”

 

Jane had planned to have another look in the French section, but they had enough books and Jack seemed eager to leave. “I think so, you?”

 

“Yes,” he said. “Come on - let’s collect everything.” 

 

They retrieved their pile of books from under the table and transferred everything to the sales desk. Jane watched Jack closely as he dealt with the sale - there was clearly something on his mind, and she could only guess that it was to do with seeing his ex-wife. Miss Harris had seemed nice enough to Jane… and she’d kissed Jack on the cheek, so she couldn’t have been angry at him or anything. Still, it couldn’t be easy coming face to face with someone you used to be married to. 

 

The sales assistant tied the books into three piles with twine, and they carried them outside into the late evening sunshine. Jane’s bicycle was where she’d left it on the pavement, and Jack’s larger bicycle was leaning against it. Jack had taught Jane to ride just the year before, and she absolutely loved it, and took her bike with her to school everyday. They’d planned the logistics of the sale for days, making sure that Jack had his bike with him so that they could ride home together. 

 

They divided the books between the panniers on Jack’s bike and the basket on the front of hers, and set off. It was a beautiful evening, and they took the long way home, along the foreshore. Usually they chatted as they rode, but Jack was very quiet. Jane wanted to say something to break him out of his thoughts, but at the same time she wasn’t sure he’d welcome it - perhaps he wanted to think through his thoughts before he got home. Jane did the same things sometimes, when things got on top of her - she allowed the thoughts and memories to come, faced them all, and then let them go. 

 

They reached Wardlow and wheeled their bikes round the side of the house to the little bike shed Phryne had had built for them. Jack took the panniers off of his bike, and Jane started pulling the books out of her basket. The silence was starting to feel uncomfortable now, and she just wanted to get inside. 

 

Suddenly, Jack sighed behind her, and put the panniers down on the ground. “Jane, before we go in,” he said, sounding rather… nervous. Jane was so surprised by the tone that she let go of the books and turned to face him, frowning.  

 

Jack looked nervous as well. Jane hadn’t seen him look nervous before, not really. 

 

“Back at the bookshop, Rosie said… well, she told me that when you were talking to her you mentioned me, and she said that you weren’t sure what I was to you-” he said in a rush. 

 

Jane felt her face heat up as she thought back on everything she’d said to Rosie, not knowing who she was. Oh god, had she told Jack what she’d said? “Oh, um…”

 

“And she said that…” Jack paused, before barrelling on. “She said that you said that I was the closest thing to a father you had…”

 

Jane looked away. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Sorry?” 

 

Jane took a deep breath and looked back up at him, but found she couldn’t quite look him in the eye. No wonder he’d been so quiet, he’d been trying to think of a way to tell her not to be so foolish. 

 

Things had been so good, and now everything was awkward and ruined. 

 

“I don’t, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she said haltingly, “it’s not, it doesn’t have to be-”

 

“Jane,” Jack said firmly, but kindly, cutting off her rambling. She stopped talking, and stood waiting for whatever speech he’d come up with on the ride home. Jack stepped closer, so he was just on the other side of her bike.

 

“It got me thinking,” he said after a moment, “we’ve never really talked about who we are to each other, and we don’t have to but… I want you to know, that no matter what happens between Phryne and I in the future, not that I think anything will - that is, I just mean that you can’t know what the future holds and-” 

 

Jane had to look up then - she’d never heard Jack trip over his words before. He looked nervous again. 

 

He let out a huff, a mix of amusement and frustration, and started again. “Even if something happens, I’ll always be there for you, whatever way you need me to be,” he said seriously, looking her straight in the eye. “And it’s not just because of Phryne - it’s because you’re the closest thing I have to a daughter as well.” 

 

Jane’s eyes were suddenly blurry with tears. She darted forward and wrapped her arms around Jack’s torso, pressing her face into his shoulder. It was awkward, since there was a bike between them, but Jack wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her back tightly. She screwed her eyes up, determined not to cry, but a few tears escaped anyway. She knew that Jack cared about her, but hearing it from him, hearing him say that he thought of her that way, it meant the world to her. 

 

After a few long moments, Jack dropped a kiss on top of her head and loosened his hold on her. Jane pulled back too, quickly swiping at her eyes. Jack placed his hand on her shoulder. 

 

“Alright?”

 

Jane nodded. “Yes.” She smiled up at him, and he smiled back, before reaching for the books in her basket.

 

“Come on, let’s go and horrify Phryne with how many books we’ve bought,” he said.

 

Jane smiled and went to help him. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly, but she didn’t cry. “I think she’s un-horrifiable after the amount we came back with from the Jefferson’s sale.”

 

Jack chuckled. “True,” he said. He grinned at her. “That was a good haul.”

 

Jane grinned back. “It was a  _ great  _ haul.” 

 

Jane held out her arms so that Jack could pile the books on them. He picked up the panniers and slung them over his shoulder, and then together they made their way into the house.  

 


End file.
